


Back To Basics

by fadedink



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-02
Updated: 2007-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen wants one thing and Steve wants another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back To Basics

**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://kanecountryfic.livejournal.com/profile)[**kanecountryfic**](http://kanecountryfic.livejournal.com/) challenge, because there simply isn't enough Steve fic out there. My prompt choice was "Luckenbach Texas". Sort of a companion piece to [Dying Roses](http://fadedink.livejournal.com/29506.html). Beta by [](http://azewewish.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://azewewish.livejournal.com/)**azewewish**. :)

_I don’t need my name in marquis lights_  
 _I got my song and I got you with me tonight_  
 _Maybe it’s time we got back to the basics of love_  
\- Waylon Jennings

  
_You ever think about it?_

_What?_

_Cutting Kane loose, going after your own deal._

Lazy fingers strummed guitar strings as Steve replayed the conversation in his head. He knew where Jensen was coming from, knew Jensen wanted things for him.

Things Steve wasn’t entirely sure he wanted for himself.

Fame and fortune were nice and all, but Steve knew they weren't for him. Sure, the band Kane was all about chasing the bright lights in the big city, but that was all Chris - who'd gotten the hell out of Oklahoma for a reason. To make something of himself.

Steve, on the other hand, never really felt like he _needed_ to do anything other than what he did. And that was make music. As long as he had his guitar – and maybe a shot of Jack, some weed, his friends – he was good to go.

The lights, the cameras, the _action_ \- it was all just too distracting, taking away from the time he could spend doing what he did best. Sure, Kane's record deal was pretty cool, because it got them out there to a broader audience, but let Chris chase celebrity. Let him deal with no privacy and people always demanding a piece of him until there was nothing left of the bright-eyed boy that Steve had met years ago.

Steve would just go on being Steve, making his music, doing his thing.

And Jensen, God love him, would continue being Steve’s biggest cheerleader, continue doing his best to talk Steve into bigger, better, and more.

Sometimes Steve thought that Jensen wanted him to be famous more than Steve himself did. Something about deserving it, or so Jensen said on the rare times Steve actually questioned him about it.

Eyes closed, he continued to strum the guitar, smiling as he heard bare feet pad across the floor, felt a warm body drop into the empty space beside his. _Hey_ and _sounds good_ , and Steve cracked open one eye, shaking his head as Jensen opened his mouth.

No need to rehash the conversation; they both already knew what the other would say. So it was left alone, again, and Jensen propped his feet on the coffee table beside Steve’s. He shifted a little, just until his toes brushed against Steve’s, and Jensen’s smile was innocent - too innocent - when Steve looked at him again.

 _Only got the weekend_ , and Steve knew what Jensen hinted at, but he strummed another chord, two more, then twisted his wrist to lay the guitar aside. A warm arm, bare and sticky in the unnatural for October heat, dropped across his shoulders.

Steve grinned, tipped his head to look into hazel eyes, and then it was _something you want_? and _maybe, depends on what you’re offering_ , and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

 _You should, y’know_ had Steve raking callused fingers through his hair, wincing as he encountered a snarl left by Jensen’s earlier tugging and tangling. _Let it go, man_ , but he knew it would come up again, and he didn’t really want to hear it.

So he slid his hand over Jensen's spiky hair, tugged him down for a slow kiss that ratcheted the heat of the room up a few degrees. _Just the weekend, remember_ , and Jensen laughed against Steve’s lips, a soft rumble that shivered through Steve and left him aching for more of _this_ , because _this_ was all he’d needed.


End file.
